Don't Mess With My Pathologist
by MrsMCrieff
Summary: Written for Lilsherlockian1975 this is my take on how Sherlock reacted when Molly was bullied at work...hint, it doesn't go well for the bully, but it does lead to Sherlock acknowledging his feelings for his pathologist. One this is certain though, Sherlock isn't all he seems to be. Rated M for smuttiness.
1. Chapter 1

**This is written as a gift to Lilsherlockian1975 who three years ago became one of my closest friends. A while back we celebrated by promoting each other and this year Lil suggested we take one of each other's fics and give it a rewrite or a new spin.**

 **I spent sometime rereading some of her earlier work and finally decided on her fic 'Don't Mess With His Pathologist' which I can thoroughly recommend particularly as a lead up to this fic though it can be read as a stand alone.**

 **Anyway, Lil. Thank you so much for the last two years, it's been an absolute blast and I can't wait for what will come next. You endlessly boost my confidence, listen to my woes and make me laugh. I love having you as part of my life xxx**

 **Chapter 1**

Sherlock Holmes had a secret. This was something he never discussed outside of his family; he had never revealed it to John, never even considered it, but slowly but surely he was realising that he might have to reveal it to Molly Hooper, his pathologist.

He had spent the first couple of years of knowing her ignoring his feelings for her; and the past twelve months contemplating whether he should act on them but it looked as though events were conspiring to force his hand.

He was currently making his way through the darkened streets towards the home of Molly's unfortunate boss. Unfortunate because that man had no idea who he was really going up against when he had messed with Sherlock's pathologist.

That man and his allies had tried to undermine her standing as a pathologist, had intimidated her and had her suspended from work, but worse than that they had upset her...made her, his strong, competent Molly, cry.

Sherlock's mind went back to how he had felt when he had heard that Molly was upset. It had felt like a knife piercing through him. He had been so concerned about her that for once he had let his defences slip and he had used his extra 'skills' to find her; using her scent. He should have been more careful, John had picked up on it and he was dangerously close to exposing himself as being something...more.

He had always been something more; something not quite human...better, enhanced. Mycroft used the term immortals but it wasn't entirely right. Humans called them vampires but most of their assumptions were wildly off. He could walk in daylight, eat garlic, see his reflection in a mirror and he had been born this way not turned. He just had some extra skills and unusual cravings.

Some of those skills he was open about; his observational skills and his intelligence, and some he was less open about; his longevity, he was over three hundred years old, and how hard it was to actually kill him. Be hurt; yes and dammit falling off the roof at Barts had bloody hurt but kill him; no. He had just had to temporarily suppress his heart rate and he had been home free. Molly had been under the impression that Mycroft had set up an elaborate plan but there had really been no need.

And so here he was making his way to Islington to exact revenge on Molly's soon to be ex boss. He had initially thought he would leave Mycroft to do the dirty work but he'd rung him back fifteen minutes ago to say he'd deal with Campbell personally. His encounter with Molly had adrenaline racing through his system and handling this man's punishment personally might just help to alleviate his current cravings. It was either that or go back to Baker St and perhaps do something he, or more likely Molly, might regret.

Molly...his Molly! She had no idea of the dark forces that she was playing with. She was all lightness and joy, everything that was good with this world. Sherlock felt as though he was her complete opposite and he hated to bring his dark bleakness into her life but for some reason she craved him, almost as much as he craved her. He always had.

The trouble was there was only one thing that could shorten the life of an immortal and it was love, the taking of a soul mate. As Mycroft frequently reminded him caring was not an advantage.

If he took Molly he would extend her life, just as his mother had extended the life of his oh so mortal father, but equally his own life would be shortened, they might have a couple of hundred years together, maybe as many as five hundred but eventually they would both wither and die. If the concept was scary to a human it was almost incomprehensible to someone such as himself. Plus he could see his own parents ageing and withering before his very eyes. They had maybe fifty years left, no more. Not that his mother seemed to have any regrets...and the longer he had withheld himself from Molly the more he pondered how pointless endless life would be if she wasn't part of it.

He turned into Campbell's street and within seconds he was stood outside the man's front door waiting for him to answer. It didn't take long but as soon as the coward saw Sherlock he tried to shut the door on him.

Unfortunately for Campbell he wasn't quite fast enough and Sherlock slammed his hand against the door forcing it open and forcing the man behind it to stagger backwards.

Sherlock strode in without invite, happy that yet another rule about vampires was just a myth.

Campbell backed up against the hallway wall holding up his hands defensively. 'You can't come in here, this is my home. I...I'll call the police.'

Sherlock was in his face, crowding him. 'Fine, if you can make it to a phone you can call them.'

Campbell narrowed his eyes and glanced to the room on his right where Sherlock surmised the nearest phone was but he seemed to realise the move would be futile.

'W..why are you even here?'

'You know why I'm here...you know exactly why I am here.'

'Listen...M..Molly Hooper is none of your business. She's a member of my staff and I can treat her how I like.'

'Wrong! She is my pathologist and you will treat her with respect, that is if you ever even see her again...I'm having you fired as we speak.'

Campbell seemed to muster some anger at that which overcame his cowardice and he stood more upright, his hands balling into fists. 'You...you can't do that!'

'I can and I will and what's more I'm going to teach you a lesson. Are you ready for it?'

'Who the fuck do you...'

At that moment Sherlock bared his teeth and let his incisors visibly extend. The effect was instantaneous with Campbell's eyes widening as he cowered back against the wall.

'What the hell are you?'

'So many titles for us...Immortals, vampires, Bantu, Apotamkin...do I need to go on or shall we just cut to the chase; I'm hungry.

In the space of a heart beat Sherlock stepped forwards and held the man in an iron grip with one hand roughly tilting his head to the side to expose the deep artery in his neck but before he could even bite him there was a foul pungent smell as Campbell's bladder let go in terror.

Sherlock's nostrils flared in disgust and he quickly let his victim go, watching as he slid down the wall with a sob.

'Ugh, suddenly I'm not hungry. You have given me an idea though.'

He knelt down to the other man's eye level and forced him to look at him; then he stared him in the eye to control him.

'You've just extended your employment for a month but next time you try to humiliate someone or bully them you will do as you did here and wet yourself. It will happen each and every time. Maybe you'll end up being a nicer person for it. Now forget what happened here today.'

He released him and stood, chuckling a little as he closed the front door behind him.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

When Sherlock arrived back in Baker St he hung up his coat and chucked his jacket onto John's old chair, then he kicked off his shoes and socks before throwing himself down onto his settee. He felt the cool leather against his overheated skin and he tried to calm his heart rate; a feat he could normally easily achieve but which seemed impossible tonight.

He should have fed from Campbell, or anyone, before coming back to his flat. He recognised that now but when he had left that man's house his only thought had been to get back to Molly, except now that he was here her scent was all around him; teasing him and luring him in.

He had always wanted her but now it was tied in with his craving and his need for blood. That want was becoming a need.

Without even consciously thinking about it he found himself making his way into his bedroom. He told himself he needed to check on her; to make sure her breathing was still strong and that the sedative he had laced in her tea earlier had not had any adverse effects.

The room was semi-dark, lit only by the moon shining through the uncurtained windows; he must have forgotten to close them.

Molly was half in and half out of the covers with one leg flung over his sheets. He could see the full line of her body clad only in his pyjamas. It seemed to bring out a primal, possessive desire within him and he felt his body starting to react to her.

He knew he should turn around and leave; to put himself as far away from her as possible but instead his feet drew him forwards, silently bringing the dangers he inherently carried closer to the woman that he now acknowledged that he loved. It felt almost magnetic in its nature. All the emotions of the last few hours bringing him to this moment of crisis and he couldn't turn away.

Like the predator that he was he crawled onto the bed, up and over her sleeping body, barely moving the covers or dipping the mattress. He promised himself one smell of her carotid artery...just one and then he would leave.

He held his body away from hers, resting on his hands and knees as he lowered his face to the long, white skinned column of her neck and as he took a breath he closed his eyes and used his every sense to drink her in. His mouth watered and he could feel himself hardening and growing in the tight confines of his trousers.

He was about to move away when Molly let out a breathy moan and another scent assailed his senses. It was arousal, her arousal, and he had to bite his lip to repress his own reciprocal groan. She was killing him and she didn't even know it. His hips ached with the base need to rut against her, to slake his desire both physical and sexual. His head felt slow and foggy, his normally sharp senses dulled by pure, physical want.

He had a sudden image of himself turning Molly onto her front as he took her from behind; his hand on her clit as he plunged his cock into her tight, welcome heat; his teeth buried in her neck pulling her blood into him.

His whole body shuddered with a desperate craving and it was then that he heard her intake of breath. When he opened his eyes he was staring into the bottomless depths of her warm, chocolate brown gaze.

'Sh..Sherlock...'

The sound of her breathily saying his name broke whatever resolve remained within him and he couldn't stop himself from bending his head so his lips pressed against hers. He felt her stiffen under him momentarily before her hands slid up his body to his neck and then she pulled him against her as her mouth opened to him.

 **Could there possibly be sexy times ahead for our erstwhile lovers? Please let me know what you think so far. Lil, I so hope that you approve and that you're enjoying it.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you for all your comments, it makes me happy that so many of you are on board with this even with the supernatural/VampireLock! element. I think Sherlock would make a fantastically sexy vampire...ooh I'm having a hot flush just thinking about it!**

 **Anyway, the most important thing is that Lil liked it. So, here's the second and last chapter...enjoy xx**

 **Chapter 2**

Molly felt disorientated and confused. She was kissing Sherlock and yet she wasn't overly sure how that had even happened. She remembered falling asleep in his bed; the overwhelming tiredness dragging her under even as she wanted to relish the experience of being in his room and in his bed.

She had never anticipated that he would have been so kind to her after that awful time spent with her manager and personnel, let alone bringing her back to his flat and letting her sleep in his bed. But now she had woken to find him leaning over her with such a blatant look of unadulterated lust in his eyes and she hadn't been able to help herself. It was as though she was still in her dream...a dream where she had been seeing Sherlock on every corner of every street but she hadn't been able to reach him. She had felt a desperate, aching need to hold him but he was always just out of reach; just as he always seemed to be in real life, but not any more. No, now he was lying his body onto hers as her hands tangled in his hair and her tongue vied with his.

She had long imagined what it would be like to kiss him and it felt like a cliche to say the reality was better than she had ever dreamt but it was. His mouth moved in perfect synchronicity with her own and he tasted divine. She felt she could live to the end of her days off this kiss alone but she couldn't help being greedy and wanting more.

As he shifted over her she moved with him and brought her hands down to his back where she clawed and pulled at his shirt; needing to feel his skin under her touch. As her hand slid over his flesh he seemed to shiver and he broke away from her eager mouth causing her heart to sink as she briefly wondered if he would retreat from her, removing himself as he realised his mistake.

Instead he let out a low moan and let his mouth kiss slowly along her jaw and his own hand moved to knead and caress her breast through the material of his own pyjamas. It had felt so erotic putting them on and now all she wanted was for him to remove them.

He nuzzled his nose against her throat and took a deep inhaling breath before kissing her carotid artery. Molly closed her eyes and bit her lip feeling her muscles clenching in her core, knowing she needed him; wanting him completely.

By now he was resting between her thighs and she could feel his hips starting to rock against her, pressing the obvious evidence of his own arousal against her. She could feel herself reacting to his every touch and even though she had always had a rule to never sleep with a guy on a first date she knew she would have sex with Sherlock now if he wanted it. She had been in love with him for so long and even if they only had this one night she would take it...take it and cherish it for the rest of her life.

His kisses on her neck were now open mouthed and she could feel his tongue working at her skin, his teeth scraping deliciously sending shivers through her body. She almost felt as though she wanted him to bite her and she arched her head away so as to extend the length of her neck. She was vaguely aware how strangely kinky that thought was but she was acting purely on instinct and all her instincts were telling her she wanted his teeth in her as much as his cock.

He suddenly pulled back from her throat, breathing heavily, and she could see the confusion on his face and he squeezed his eyes shut as though he was in some pain or difficulty.

She brought her hand to his cheek, wanting to comfort him and yet hoping beyond hope that he wasn't having second thoughts.

'Are you OK?'

Even though her voice was barely a whisper it sounded loud in the darkened room where no words had really been spoken.

He opened his eyes and looked at her and she felt her heart flip flop at seeing those familiar blue green eyes looking at her. They seemed, in the muted greys of the room, to have a ring of silver around the pupils giving him an almost ethereal appearance.

He seemed to be making some kind of decision.

Finally he spoke. 'Molly, what if I'm not everything you think I am? Would you still want me?'

Those words seemed so similar to the words he'd said all those years ago before she'd helped him fake his own death and her decision was as clear now as it was then.

'Yes, God yes. Sherlock, I will always want you.'

She saw him swallow and pause as he absorbed her answer and then he was kissing her again and this time it seemed just that tad more frenzied and passionate and she gave as good as she got as her hands busied themselves with his shirt buttons.

They broke off just long enough for him to pull the t shirt she was wearing up and over her head and then his mouth was on her breast and Molly let herself really believe that this was happening. She couldn't help but moan and mewl with every bite of his teeth and swipe of his tongue over her painfully hard nipples. His hands seemed to cover large portions of her body and everywhere he touched caused her to feel more and more aroused until she was squirming beneath him begging him for more.

Finally he moved down her body and she gasped as she realised what his intentions were. His hands pulled the waistband of the pyjamas down her hips until it was just skimming the top of her pubic hair and Sherlock gradually kissed and sucked his way across from one hip to the other.

Molly couldn't help but sink her hands into his curls, feeling how silky soft his hair was. She lightly pulled a couple of times and chuckled at his responding growl. She loved realising that he was as affected by her as she was by him.

Once again both on her breasts and at her hip she felt the scrape of his teeth and each time she shuddered with a swell of desire which she knew was making her wet for him. It was a strange feeling, one she had never experienced before but she was too caught up in the moment to give it too much thought.

Slowly he pulled the pyjamas down her legs before throwing them onto the floor. Then he sat back on his heels, wearing just his trousers, looking down at her naked, exposed body. She should have felt embarrassed but she didn't. His eyes seemed even more silver as she looked up at him and seemed to almost shine in the darkness. She told herself it was just a reflection of the moonlight but rather than making him look strange it just made him more attractive, helping to emphasise that other worldliness that he sometimes seemed to exude.

Molly found herself reaching for him, needing him close and he obliged her but not by leaning in for a kiss but rather to settle himself between her thighs with his mouth and tongue quickly burying themselves in her quim.

Her reaction was instant, her hands knitting back into his hair as her hips lifted off the bed in a bid to reach her release.

He held her down with one hand as he sucked on her swollen, sensitive clit before again plunging his tongue into her. She knew she must be almost dripping with need by now but he seemed to just drink it in, the wet sounds driving her mad as she chased her climax, knowing it wouldn't be long.

He seemed to know just what to do to give her the most pleasure and within seconds she was crying out his name as the most mind-bending sensations washed over her body taking any conscious thought with them.

By the time she finally opened her eyes Sherlock was knelt between her legs wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

He smiled as he saw her staring at him. 'Christ Molly you taste amazing, I should have done that years ago.'

He ruffled his hands through his hair and Molly sat up placing her hands on his thighs, feeling his slim muscular legs through the expensive material of his black trousers. Slowly she slid her hands up towards his crotch where the material was straining against his obvious erection.

As she started to undo the fastenings at his waist he placed his hand over hers effectively stopping her and making her glance up at him questioningly.

She was struck anew by the strange colour of his eyes. They were definitely changed from their normal shade. She knelt up herself and placed her hand onto his cheek as she looked into them. In return he closed his eyes and turned his head away; a sad look washing over his face.

'Molly...I need to be clear with you. I...I'm not what you think I am. We shouldn't...dammit...'

It was strange. Molly seemed to implicitly know that there was something 'different' about Sherlock. He wasn't like other people, but then he never had been. She had always known he was unlike other men but this went deeper than that. The important thing was that she didn't care, she never had, she loved him regardless. There was nothing he could ever tell her that would change that.

So that was what she told him.

'You don't need to tell me what you are...if it's easier just show me.'

Slowly he turned back to face her and after closing his eyes again for a second or two he opened them and then pulled his lips back from his teeth.

The first thing she saw was the perfect silver of his irises glowing in the moonlight and the second was the extended length of his incisors which ended in wickedly sharp points.

Part of her brain told her that this made no sense, that it wasn't biologically possible. In all her time as a pathologist she had never seen anything even remotely similar. But it was as if her soul was linked to his and it removed any feeling of fear or doubt, all she felt was love and desire and so she acted purely on that. Leaning forwards, with her hands on his chest, she kissed him.

It took a moment or two but then his mouth opened to hers and she felt his rigid stance start to relax as the kiss overwhelmed both of them.

It was Molly who let her tongue enter his mouth testing the sharpness of his teeth and tasting her own blood as the kiss tipped them both over the edge into a frenzied kind of passion.

Sherlock moved them both so that Molly was once again lying on the bed with the welcome weight of his body pressing her into the mattress. She once again moved her hands to his trousers struggling to release his erection and this time he didn't try to stop her. She had never needed anyone or anything as much as she now needed Sherlock, she could feel her inner muscles spasming and aching with need as lust flooded through her.

Within seconds he was pressed against her entrance and as he pushed into her she broke off from kissing him to let out a low guttural moan. 'F..fuck...Sherlock that feels...oh God...that feels so good.'

His lips had moved to her neck and as he started to move within her she could feel him sucking at the skin of her throat and she once again had an overwhelming desire to feel his teeth entering her skin. She instinctively turned her head, extending her neck and she could hear herself starting to beg him for more...'please...God...please...'

He reached for her hands, linking them with his own and pushing them up above her head. Briefly he looked into her eyes as though needing to see visible confirmation that she wanted this...truly wanted it and then he dipped his head back to her neck as he resumed his relentless thrusting.

Then she felt it, the sharp burst of pain as his teeth sliced into her skin and then into her artery. Instead of pulling her out of the moment though the pain seemed to intensify her pleasure and as she felt the first suck of her blood into his mouth her orgasm hit her like a freight train. It was like nothing she had ever experienced before and all she could do was give into the feelings. She knew she was crying out incoherently, her nails digging into the backs of his hands where he held her firm.

His movements were becoming more fractured and harsher as he chased his own release but she knew the moment he came. She seemed to feel what he felt and it extended her own climax in a way she would never have thought possible.

Finally he released her hands and they held each other as he sagged against her, both of them trying to catch their breath and come to terms with what had just happened.

Molly knew, without words, that something fundamental had changed between them. They were no longer separate. She was no longer just Molly Hooper, she was part Sherlock Holmes as well and always would be. It was as though they had just forged a deep spiritual link or tether but even that didn't explain it...she wasn't sure that there were even words in the English language that adequately described it but she knew and she accepted it...welcomed it. They would never be alone again.

It was a good forty eight hours before anyone saw either Molly or Sherlock again, the two of them barely left the bed, and when they finally did it was obvious to everyone that they shared an unbreakable passion and a bond for each other. No one was ever in any doubt ever again that they should not mess with Molly's detective or Sherlock Holmes' pathologist!

 **Looks like they'll be having sexy times for many decades and centuries to come. I hope you enjoyed it...let me know, keep my muse happy xx**


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